Burger King and Extra Olives, Please
by Addicted to Antics
Summary: A series of short vignettes about the daily lives of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts after the latter dropped the biggest piece of news in L.A. since Arnold Schwartzennegger ran for Governator and won. MOVIEVERSE with light TS/PP banter.
1. Nailin' the Coffin

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please**

* * *

_WORKAHOLIC – noun; a person who works compulsively at the expense of other pursuits._

That word pretty much summed up Virginia 'Pepper' Potts. And every person with whom she corresponded on a regular basis seemed to agree that Pepper, who lived and breathed her job, needed time off.

Especially Tony Stark. And he had to admit, his reasoning for sending his personal assistant off to the swankiest spa in Los Angeles for the weekend was rather selfish. He needed his staff to be in mint condition, and in all honesty, Potts was dragging.

He'd noticed a definite change in her demeanor ever since his royal screw up during the last week's press conference in which he let a minor detail about his involvement in a certain incident at one of his company's laboratories.

Well, it had been a major enough detail to warrant about nineteen-hundred-and-fifty-three extra calls on Pepper's work phone daily. A good two-thirds of them were from overly ambitious junior reporters hoping to sell the assistant's take on the enthralling and highly secretive story to the highest bidder: The Boston Globe… the New York Times… CNN… They all wanted a piece of the piece.

But Pepper, having all the integrity that she had, turned all offers down flat. Still, Tony could see the stress was building inside her— regardless of the tight façade of serenity that she wore to the world— and made an appointment (or rather, forced his personal assistant by threat of dismissal to make one in his name) for her.

"Are you sure you can handle everything without assistance?" Pepper frowned as her boss began shoving her out of the door. "You haven't done it since you were twenty-one, you know."

"Yes, Pepper, I've even taken the time to memorize my social security number, if that makes you feel any better."

"Marginally."

Tony sighed exasperatedly. He had a meeting with the Board of Directors in ten minutes and was not even remotely prepared for it. "It's two days. I think I can handle my own life for forty eight hours."

"You're nailing your own coffin, Tony."

He grinned and rested his fist on the door lightly. "Knock on wood, right, Miss Pepper?"

"You'd better hope so, Mr. Stark."

And she was whisked off in a small, yet ridiculously expensive sedan that stole her away to _Le Bain Élégant de Pied_.

It took only twenty minutes for the true meaning of the word 'coffin' to reveal itself.

And at the end of the second day, when Tony Stark had gone through two cell phones— one by throwing it out of his bedroom window in frustration with some marketer and the other by dropping it in a pot of coffee—, spoken to at least eight million college students pretending to be qualified journalists, found three little children on his doorstep all claiming to be the products of some romantic trysts he'd had with three indiscriminate women and jammed his laundry machine by pouring too much Downey into the damned thing, Tony Stark promised himself to never let Pepper Potts out of his sight again.

* * *

A/N: There'll be more of these little vignettes. And by the way, the name of the spa that Pepper was pushed into literally translates from French to the Swanky Foot Bath.

Hope you enjoyed this, and please, if you did, leave a short little message by clicking that fantastically shaped box at the left hand side of the screen that reads, 'Submit Review!'


	2. Guess Who's Who

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please**

* * *

"Tell me a joke."

"Three men walk into a bar—"

"I've heard this one already! I asked for a joke I've never heard before."

"No you didn't."

"Does it matter? I'm improvising. And I want a new joke."

"And you _always_ get what you want."

"Of course I do. My accountant and my lawyer say so. Hell, my Wikipedia page agrees."

"You know, Wikipedia may not be a prime example of accuracy."

"It's better than the Urban Dictionary."

"Why would the Urban Dictionary have an entry on you?"

"Why not?"

"I suppose I don't know. I figured it was used for drug and street stuff."

"It isn't _Ghettopedia_, you know."

"Well, how should I know that? I saw that story on MSNBC one time—you know, the one where they called it a stain upon the Internet and a bad source of information for children—and that's all I've ever heard or seen of this Urban Dictionary."

"And MSNBC is known for being the epitome of reliable."

"It's better than FOX."

"Touché."

"I don't know why I watch the news at all these days."

"You want to get a glimpse of yours truly, in case they happen to show that vintage footage of my systematic mental deterioration after my little vacation with Osama's best buddies."

"If I'm lucky I will never have to witness that particular fiasco ever again."

"Well I think your luck is running out. Rhodey has it on his DVR."

"If it's on his TV, I don't have to watch it."

"You do if I tell you to."

"I'll quit."

"You know you won't, so stop throwing that line around."

"Well then I'll..."

"You'll what?"

"I'll make sure I tell you a better joke, Mr. Stark."

"That's a good idea, Miss Potts."

* * *

A/N: Hmm. I decided to go for a dialogue only vignette, so hopefully it isn't a travesty because dialogue ain't my forte.


	3. The Martini Motif!

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please**

* * *

_Allay_ was one of Pepper Potts' favorite 21-and-over vicinities.

It wasn't outrageously exclusive, nor was the bill obscene. It was a personable setting, with an intimate feel to it. And of course, there wasn't any of the usual techno-rap-emo-dance garbage that thrived and reproduced in L.A. hot spots.

It was the place she went when her eccentric boss took some curvy, attractive Suzy Q. out for a spin.

It was the place where she contemplated most of the thoughts she rarely allowed herself to contemplate.

And most importantly of all, Tony Stark knew nothing of the place.

Still, Mr. Stark had lost a little of his hormonal drive over the past few months since his confrontation with Obadiah Stane— and by little, I mean an extremely marginal amount; after all, it takes a bit more than living in a terrorist cell for three months to beat out the playboy in a genius billionaire— and this had left Pepper Potts in quite desperate need of a nice night with the bottle.

"The usual, Miss Potts?" The bartender asked as Pepper situated herself on the cushioned stool nearest to the back end of the bar. She wasn't particularly keen on overzealous fans of her boss and their incessant questions, so she figured taking this spot would deter most of them away from her.

"Of course."

And so, for the first time that week, she ventured into a very dark, narrow corridor in her mind. She saw herself on the rooftop of the Disney banquet hall… dancing in the moonlight to the soft music from below with… with…

Tony.

She saw him returning with her martini… him kissing her softly… carrying her back to his room…

And then she saw herself—quiet and conservative as always— showing her half naked body out the door and out of his life.

That was how it went.

Tony Stark didn't have relationships, she knew. He had passionate one night stands that ended with both parties not particularly interested in one another.

Pepper Potts didn't have relationships, either. She lived, breathed and ate her work and nothing more. It was all she cared for.

But still, it was nice to dream.

"Here's your vodka martini, extra dry and extra olives, Miss Potts."

"Thank you."

The tip jar was always full when she left.

* * *

A/N: A little bit more angsty, because I loves me some angst (I'm a Zutarian, please. That's an Avatar term, if you don't know, lol.) And thanks to the reviewers, I appreciate your words very much!


	4. Binge Drinking Is Not Recommended

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please**

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"You really ought to get back to MIT about that commencement ceremony, Mr. Stark."

Tony Stark sat on his couch, watching the television on his window as his faithful personal assistant stood behind him. A young blonde reporter spoke of a public figure's past affair with a senator, a topic that had taken all of the media's heat off of Mr. Stark for the first time in the two months since his outing— the outing of Iron Man's true identity, of course.

And, to make the news more interesting— which he found was not an easy task at all— he got smashed via a bottle of Rémy Martin.

"I will, Miss Potts," he said with a slight slur, causing the redhead to frown.

"You said that five months ago."

"And I'll say that until I talk to them—"

"—which better be tomorrow."

Tony sighed, swirling his cognac absentmindedly.

"Alright. But only because I'm too plastered to argue."

Noticing the empty bottle of incredibly expensive cognac on the small table in front of him, she frowned further and walked toward him.

"Did you go through this whole thing tonight?" She asked, picking up the empty bottle.

'There she goes again,' he thought bitterly. 'I'll never hear the end of this.'

"If you won't answer, Jarvis will." Pepper glanced at the ceiling, stomping a foot and placing her hands on her hips impatiently. "_Well?_"

"_It seems that Mr. Stark did indeed finish the bottle of __Louis XIII de Rémy Martin, Miss Potts. However, there was already a good third gone from the bottle when he began consuming its contents. I might add that I reminded him at the half-way mark that drinking in excess has been known to lead to liver remission, but Mr. Stark has obviously chosen to ignore scientific law."_

"Thank you, Jarvis, and don't worry, he'll find out just how bad this sort of bingeing is in the morning."

"Must you always ruin my fun?"

"It's my job to keep you in line, and you know it..."

His assistant constantly chided him for his habits. And deep inside his inebriated mind, a small voice concurred with her. And it was the absolute truth, despite what he wanted to believe.

Pepper Potts was, by definition, a gift from the gods. She was exceedingly patient with him (for the most part.) She had a fantastic level of mental acuity that he witnessed with every passing day. She was witty, challenging and more responsible than he ever dreamed to be. And of course, Miss Potts was not exactly hard on the eyes, either.

But that sober voice chimed in once again, reminding him that this was hardly important. Out of 43 personal assistants he'd gone through over the years, she was by far the longest lasting. And that was what mattered the most to him. She was loyal.

She was not simply his employee; it went deeper than that. She was a friend, a comrade. There were very few people to whom those words applied. 'Really only three, if you count your AI,' the voice supplied again.

But he was fine with that. He always had been.

And she was his better half.

"… and I really worry about you sometimes— _have you even heard a word I've said?_" The incensed woman threw her hands into the air. "Tony Stark, you are absolutely incorrigible!"

"I'm sorry, Pepper."

She raised her eyebrows and for a moment, her blue eyes reflected her acceptance. But she frowned once again and shook her head. "Those words really don't symbolize anything by momentary guilt. They don't mean you'll change."

"I like drinking, though."

"You won't like it when it consumes your life!" Pepper exclaimed frantically.

He looked up at her and saw that her eyes were very, very moist. "What's wrong? Besides the obvious."

She sighed and sat beside him on the couch. "My father was an alcoholic. He died in an accident while drunk."

Tony was speechless. He supposed he never did ask about her life… her problems… But she was always so put together; the idea that someone related to her had been a drunken mess was not comprehendible.

"I don't want that to happen to you, Tony. My father was rarely home and he died when I was only ten, but it still hurts to think about him. I can't begin to imagine the pain of— well… I suppose I can…"

He knew she was alluding to the event that had set him off in the first place. The catalyst for the creation of Iron Man. He'd never thought about what she'd gone through, during that time.

"Just don't lose control. _Please_," she pleaded, tears streaking her cheeks.

Well, Tony Stark was good at many things. But comforting someone was not on that expansive list. And especially as hammered as he was, he really didn't know what to do. So he did what any man with an alcohol blood level of .23 would have done.

He kissed her.

And the next thing he knew, he was over his toilet, vomiting violently while Pepper Potts, ever the faithful personal assistant, stood in the doorway.

"This is what you get for… for…"

"It won't happen again, Miss Potts— ugh…" he replied as more bile reached his throat.

He could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile as she walked away, reminding him that after his eventual hangover in the morning, he needed to call MIT.

* * *

A/N: Well, there's a longer one. I generally write long one-shots, but I can't seem to do that with Iron Man. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, because I did this instead of using the time to study for the AP World History exam this Thursday. And thanks to reviewers, again!


	5. A Second Opinion

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please**

* * *

Sometimes Colonel James 'Rhodey' Rhodes really felt that, for all of his best friend's genius, Tony Stark was a moron. There was no other man on the planet who could conceptualize miniaturizing arc reactor technology into self-service life support, and yet this same man seemed tragically dumbfounded by Rhodey's theory that he was interested in one particularly spirited red-haired personal assistant. In _that_ way.

And the _Tony-loves-Pepper-Potts_ theory wasn't idiocy on the level of the storylines of Baywatch. It was rather obvious, in fact, to everyone who saw the dynamic duo interact that they were deeply interested in one another. In _that _way.

So it made Rhodey chuckle to himself as he watched Tony try to haggle with Pepper, who had just stepped into the office to remind the multi-billionaire genius that he _still_ needed to write his speech for MIT's commencement, offering a permanent pay raise if she would write the damn speech for him.

"Absolutely not."

"Pepper!"

"What happened to this newfound responsibility?" the redhead asked, raising an thin eyebrow, knowing very well that she had the upper hand in this argument of sorts.

"Yeah, what about that, Mr. Stark?" Rhodey tossed in for the sheer sake of watching his friend squirm and grinned as Tony glared at him.

"There comes a point when two against one is simply unjust."

"Tony, with S.H.I.E.L.D agents up your ass about laying low and this idealistic ban on weaponry you're enforcing, I'm surprised you haven't jumped at the chance to do _something_ besides tinker with your toys," Rhodey retorted.

"I've been busier than ever, for your information. Arc reactor technology," he added at Pepper's furrowed brow.

"I really feel that it is important for you to do this yourself. No one can nail your… unique sense of eloquence and rhetoric except you, let alone me. Besides, it's your Alma Mater…" Pepper tried flattered, which proved equally unsuccessful in cornering her boss. So Rhodey quickly realized there was only one level left to which she could drop: PMS-like bitchiness and desperation. "Oh, stop being a stubborn bastard!"

Tony smirked, not in the least dented. "Not stubborn, Miss Potts. Resolute."

"'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.'" She countered.

"Touché, but I'm still not writing the speech. You've just proven that I'm a stubborn bastard."

"May I at least inquire as to why you won't write this goddamn speech for MIT?"

Tony grinned. "You didn't say 'please.'"

Rhodey shook his head in amusement as he left the office just as one much deflated Pepper Potts proceeded to ask him for various points he wanted to be covered in the speech for MIT's commencement.

It was only a matter of time before they realized that they argued like a married couple.

* * *

A/N: Well… a blast from the past! Sorry! I kind of had exams and then I went away for a week and it's all this… So here's a new chapter for those of you who still care.

Oh, and I referenced _Romeo and Juliet _and Baywatch. Two very unrelated entities, I know.


	6. Toddlers and Chew Toys

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please**

* * *

Then there was the time, nearly a year after That Day— a title Pepper and Rhodey had ever-so-affectionately dubbed the infamous press conference in which Tony effectively outed his own secret identity— when a young boy around the age of 3 or 4 showed up at the front of the Stark estate wearing a cardboard sign with the words _He's Your Burden For The Weekend_ painted on it in black paint.

Now, Pepper had reacted as she always did in this situation— and ever since That Day and even before it, to a lesser extent, this situation occurred on a practically daily basis— she simply invited the kid into the house, gave him a frozen fruit bar and turned on the kitchen television to Nickelodeon. When the boy had settled in a bit, she began prying for information.

"So, what's your name?" she asked sweetly. The kid removed the pop from his now very messy mouth and pointed at the television.

"Dora."

Pepper bit her tongue. "Your name is Dora?"

The kid gave her a funny look and laughed. "No. Brendan. Dora is a girl's name."

"Well, then…" Pepper didn't particularly want to argue with the youth that he, and not she, had brought up the feminine name. "What is your mother's name?"

"Mommy."

Pepper tried to keep a smile on her face. Boy, did she hate children. "What is her real name? 'Mommy' can't really be her real name, can it? What do people call her?"

"I call her Mommy."

"I'll clarify; what do other people call her?"

Brendan grinned. "Jamie, but that isn't her real name." He put the Popsicle stick on the granite counter and stood up from the stool. "I have to find Daddy."

"Well, you can in a minute. What is your mother's real name?" Pepper asked as she picked up the stick tried to ignore the residue that remained on the tabletop.

The boy giggled. "Mommy."

It was then that she felt something snap in her hand and looked to find the Popsicle stick in two very splintery sections.

Brendan threw off the cardboard sign that had previously hung around his neck and the red-haired assistant picked it off the ground as he ran off into the large living room, noticing a neatly written address on the back. The child sat in front of the large television screen in that room, enchanted by its splendor in the way only a TV can enchant.

'I'll bet Jamie Carpenter isn't missing her baby boy,' Pepper thought agitatedly, picturing some blonde bombshell sitting in some mud bath in some high strung L.A. spa, not worrying about the little hurricane that had just thundered into Tony Stark's home.

And just as she thought of her boss, the man in question dragged himself into the kitchen, pulled a cold bottle of Heineken out of the refrigerator and drudged past the disheveled Pepper Potts, sitting lazily on the couch in the living room. For a moment, he looked around and frowned.

"Did you reupholster the furniture, Pepper?"

"No, why?"

Tony rubbed his goatee. "Something's a bit… off."

Pepper walked over to the child and pointed at him. "Tony, meet Brendan."

"What is _that_?"

"Signs point to a toddler, Tony."

"Well, excuse me for being blunt… but, uh, what's he doing in my living room?"

Pepper sighed. "He showed up at the doorstep about ten minutes ago and had this around his neck." She tossed the cardboard sign over to the multi-billionaire genius, who looked at it with disinterest.

"Doesn't really ring a bell, this Jamie Carpenter."

"Well, it wouldn't really be the first time and regardless, you knocked her up and now we've got another kid to deal with and at least another 50,000 lawsuit to shut the mother up."

Tony studied the boy for a moment. "Hey, kid, come here." Brendan turned and waddled over to him, staring at him with curious, wide brown eyes.

"He's got my dashing features."

"And your tact, too."

Tony pulled the kid to sit beside him and turned to the television, where a large headed Hispanic girl was running around in an acid-trip colored world with a monkey.

"What's your name again?"

"Brendan," the boy answered, revealing a toothy grin.

"He's kinda cute."

Pepper shook her head. "Oh no, you don't. Are we going to go through this each time Jane Doe lets her child wreak havoc on this house? Get yourself a dog if you want a plaything." Unfortunately, Pepper regretted those words as soon as they hit her lips.

"Pepper, if you insist."

And as soon as the child was picked up by his very thankful mother at the end of the weekend, Tony brought home a new little bundle of joy.

"What is _that_?"

"Signs point to a puppy, Pepper."

And the petite (if only temporarily) golden retriever waged his tail and tilted his head gleefully at her.

"Alright, but I'm not walking him."

"What do you think I'm paying you for?"

"Certainly not to pick up dog shit!" Pepper scoffed.

"You are a personal assistant, and therefore you assist me—"

"—in every way. Yes, I know the script."

Tony handed her the leash to which the large puppy was tied. "Pepper, meet Humphrey Bogart."

Pepper stared at her boss incredulously. "Are you joking? What type of name is that for a dog?"

"Well, he was awesome in _Casablanca_, the only movie I've ever cried watching."

"Just give me the damn leash."

And as Pepper closed the door, she heard a laughing Tony yell, "Here's looking at you, kid."

Still, as she caught a glimpse of the wet black eyes boring into her innocently, she couldn't help but consider it the start of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

A/N: Well, due to my sudden burst of inspiration, here's another update. Oh, and if you haven't seen _Casablanca_… I'm sorry. You must.


	7. Toeing the Line

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please**

* * *

Because of Pepper's practically inflexible work schedule— not to mention her extensive case of perfectionism— that kept her holed in her office late into the night on most days, Pepper Potts rarely went out. And consequently, she rarely went out with _men_. It seemed partially due to her exceptionally testosterone-driven boss that she didn't appeal to men.

Basically, Tony Stark scared the shit out of her prospects. That was the way he liked it.

While most of the time it was unintentional, he really sent them running for the hills. However, there were occasions in which Tony would… well, send the dogs on whatever Joe Schmuck showed up at the Stark estate to pick up a late-working Pepper. Literally. His new puppy, Humphrey Bogart— affectionately known to Tony, Pepper and Rhodey as simply Humphrey and the rest of the world as That Beast— truly enjoyed gnawing at "the meat," or Pepper's dates.

Still, dear Humphrey was the least of their worries. In fact, the sheer thought of showing up at the gates of _IRON MAN'S_ house seemed to make a couple of the guys piss their pants. The rest of them revealed their true intentions in pursuing Pepper when they caught a glimpse of the leader of Stark Industries. First of all, some of them wanted to get his autograph, have a beer with him, watch _Shawshank Redemption _with him… it went on and on.

But of course, Tony didn't accept these fanboy-ish offers. It was his belief that most of the men that she dated wanted one thing and one thing only: to be able to say that they slept with Iron Man's personal assistant.

Naturally, when he brought this up to her, she did not react exactly as well as he had thought that she might.

"Oh, so I can't get a boyfriend on my own account?" She had retorted in a snarky attitude.

"Well, I'm saying having 'is Tony Stark's slave' on your résumé helps your case."

"That is an incredibly conceited thing to say, Tony."

"That's life, I suppose," he replied with one of his trademark lazy, half-grins.

And it was a terribly pigheaded belief, Tony knew. But that noble excuse for his overprotective attitude toward Pepper hid the murkier reasons for it. That was territory he did not want to cross— he simply could not cross— and he didn't feel up to a massive soul searching expedition, especially if it concerned his redheaded assistant.

He was attracted to Pepper. He knew that. He certainly wasn't thick— his IQ was goddamn 146 and he was a MENSA man through and through. But he wasn't sure how far he wanted to go in admitting those… feelings.

At times she was his best friend and she probably knew more about him than he did. Well, he had confirmed this when Pepper had asked him what his Social Security number was all those months ago…

"_I have you for the other eight."_

'No. I'm not going there,' he thought, furrowing his eyebrow as he subconsciously tapped his arc reactor and immediately cursed his fingers for spurning further incriminating thoughts.

She had literally held his heart in her hands…

He felt warm breath on his neck as he sat facing the left leg of his Iron Man suit and turned, staring into two dark eyes. A long tongue licked his face and he smiled.

"You'll help me toe the line, won't you, Humphrey?"

The retriever tilted his head dumbly and his tongue hung from the side of his open jaw, drooling all over Tony's jeans.

"Well, it IS cleaner than the grease."

* * *

N/A: OOOH. Soul-searching/delusional!Tony is pretty sexy. Enjoy another nugget of my insanity.


	8. Playing the Hero

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please**

* * *

There are times when Pepper wants to tell him to stop the Iron Man shenanigans. Those nights, when she sits up with Humphrey Bogart all alone, she tries to encase her worry in a small portion of her mind. Still, it inevitably leaks into the forefront and she can only pet the dog and pretend to be the one doing the comforting.

She notices that when he returns to the Stark estate, he always seems surprised to see her waiting for him, her eyes shining with concern at the ever present dents and scrapes on the suit. He always asks her something along the lines of, "so are you here still because you want to make sure your beloved boss returns home, or do you just want to get a head start on finding a job when you're sure I'm dead?"

She always responds with something like, "I'm keeping the dog company." And she always immediately leaves, because to stick around would signify other, darker ideas.

It is all she can do to smile encouragingly and nod as he goes off on his hair-raising, ego-stroking missions, risking his no longer insured neck for faceless people.

Still, Pepper would hate him if he didn't play the hero, for it would be a travesty to waste that mind on the trivial things his money provides for him.

* * *

A/N: I know this one's really short, but it's for the Pepperony 100 challenge at LJ, so I was like, eh.


	9. Aged to Perfection

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please

* * *

**

Just as he opens his mouth, Pepper holds one manicured finger up in the air.

"Don't say it."

He should have seen this coming. After all, just two years before, he'd had to come to terms with the same issue. Therefore, he knew how to combat the almost completely predictable and uncontrollable angst that would soon be spewing out of his red-haired assistant's mouth in the form of phrases like "It's just not fair" and "Damnit, I think I see a gray!"

First, he'd tell her that yes, it certainly is fair and that everyone—except those who don't make it to this point, God bless them—has to deal with it at some time or another. And then he'd point out that gray hairs aren't that awful and there is something called a hair salon that can provide a moderate amount of solace.

So, even though she warns him, he'll say it anyway.

"Happy birthday, Pepper."

Looking up from a fashion magazine, she glares at him through her reading glasses—Prada, just like he'd requested—and sighs. Or rather, it is a stressed exhalation that reminds Tony that Pepper is a woman, and women react quite differently to the Big Day than men do.

"Oh happy day," she mutters, returning her attention to the magazine article after a moment of silence.

She wants him to leave, of course. And so, like the exceptional boss he is, he sits beside her on the couch and rubs Humphrey's ear.

"It's amazing how large he's gotten over the past few months," he remarked, trying to tiptoe around the elephant lurking ever so obviously in the room.

"Amazing what _aging_ does to an animal."

If he were Homer Simpson, Tony figures that this would have been a D'oh! moment. 'Great job, Stark. You managed to walk right into old Peanut,' he thinks with a frown. 'Time for some of that trademark damage control.'

"Hey Pepper," he starts, glancing at his PA with a smile.

"Yes?"

"Being 35 really isn't all that bad, you know."

She raises a thin brow. "Oh really?"

"I mean, you aren't even middle-aged yet! You don't have any grays as far as I can tell, and the wrinkles are minimal at worst but there are always injections for that, and I assume you're not menopausal yet, so there's nothing to—"

"Tony." She is smiling, and something in him flips around a bit. "I appreciate the effort, I really do, but I don't really need it." She sighs again—this time it is calming—and Tony actually sees the woman before him as someone with a maturity he still doesn't have. Or maybe he does, and he just can't tell.

"I just need to accept that I'm getting older, that I probably won't settle down or have children—which isn't that big of a deal, considering that I don't really like them—and that life doesn't go on forever." There is something in her eyes, something old and quiet, and for a moment, Tony feels like a child compared to this woman. "I know I've got nothing to be ashamed of, being 35 and all, but I'm quickly approaching that line between young and old… and I have to accept that."

He leans back in the couch and lets out a low whistle. Humphrey's golden ears perk, and Tony pats the cushion, inviting the dog to leap up beside him, much to Pepper's evident dismay.

"I've told you before, Mr. Stark, dogs belong on the floor."

He simply grins at the dog and as Humphrey licks his cheeks and nose, Pepper rolls her eyes. "Don't mind the grumpy old lady, boy."

Later that night, when Tony searches for something to eat in the refrigerator—and subsequently found it empty—he can't help but chuckle at the Post-It note at the back of the middle shelf.

_It__ appears that the grumpy old lady forgot to go grocery shopping, so you can have the salad in the vegetable crisper for dinner. Damned faulty memory._

Oh well, he has put on a few extra pounds, anyway.

* * *

A/N: It's been a while, I know. I figured I'd just give you guys a little update. If anyone is still interested, anyway.


	10. Letting it Slide

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please

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**

"… Another woman was assaulted and murdered in Bunker Hill earlier today. The woman, identified as Cynthia Browne, was found brutalized in an alley. The LAPD has already begun its investigation of her murder, as well as the deaths of three other women. No suspects have been found as of this point, but Chief of Police William Bratton has issued a statement…"

She could not watch the anchorwoman, not when the man seated beside her was being so damn distracting. And she couldn't really blame him, especially not when she felt the same as he.

"I know it's awful, Tony, and I know you want to help… but for once, please let the police do their job," she murmured as he stretched his arms as if to relieve some incredible urge; even underneath the long sleeve shirt he wore, she could detect tension ripple and release through his muscles.

He snorted. "By the time they leave the Dunkin Donuts, another woman will be dead."

"That's a rather pessimistic view."

"It's a realistic view, Pepper."

Still, something in his eyes softened as he looked at her, and it took all of her strength to keep the blush that threatened to show itself from flooding her fair cheeks.

"I'll let the Man stick it to this bastard, if that would make you feel better."

It was times like these that reminded Pepper that while Tony Stark was physically the same man who she had worked for from the time she was 19, this Tony Stark was… a different man. A serious man. A caring man.

"It does, a little."

"I'm glad." He smiled and changed the channel. "How about a movie? I mean, if we're going to feign ignorance, we might as well go all the way."

* * *


	11. Gone Too Soon

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please

* * *

**

"Why did he die?"

The innocence behind that question, behind his chocolate eyes… it nearly killed her. He was a child, and while she might have been a few years younger than him and while he might have been one of the most successful minds of his generation, Pepper had to remind herself constantly that this was a man in need of someone to hold him.

"He was sick." It seemed too simple. But that was the truth.

Her boss seemed to agree with that nagging voice in her head. "That's bullshit. You get sick, I get sick… you don't see me being lowered six feet under."

A chill scurried down Pepper's spine at the thought. "Don't even joke about that, Tony."

Brooke Shields was speaking, trying to hold some shred of composure as she stood at the podium, and for a moment, Pepper identified with her.

"_Michael was __one of a kind_," the brown-haired actress remarked. "_Whenever we were out together and there would be a picture taken, there would be caption of some kind, and the caption usually said something like, 'an odd couple' or 'an unlikely pair.'_"

An odd couple. With a quick glance at the man sipping his bottle of beer beside her, the redhead wondered what it would have been like to know an existence as a half of an odd couple.

They sure as hell would have fit the description.

"Pepper, everyone's dying now."

He rested his head on her shoulder, and she couldn't help but release one melancholy smile at the scent of booze on his breath. "People die every day. The past few days have just been… concentrated with celebrity deaths."

"It's like… fucking dying season over here."

She could resist running her hands through his hair, but only barely. He was… so close…

The image of Brooke Shields crying over Michael Jackson kept her grounded.

That was another thing they shared: a deep love for Michael's music. And he was gone, and that was really fucking scary. It was unbelievable, how someone who had always been there could suddenly just… vanish.

And with that thought, she allowed her fingers to rest on Tony Stark's shoulder as he wept into her neck.

'Don't vanish,' she thought as a tear slid down her pale cheek and into his messy hair.

* * *

A/N: Just because I figured they'd be fans.


	12. Because He Is So Goddamn Anal Retentive

**Burger King and Extra Olives, Please

* * *

**

Ten Things Tony Knows about Pepper That She Doesn't Know He Knows:

1. Pepper Potts has an insatiable love for the movie _A Hard Day's Night_. In fact, Pepper is a huge Beatles fan, and has a bizarre attraction to George Harrison, often going "fan-girly" when he appears on the screen.

2. She has three separate cell phones: one for work, one for personal usage, and one that automatically dials Rhodey when Tony doesn't return on time from a mission.

3. Pepper is a coffee addict. But surprisingly it is not the rush of caffeine that she needs; rather, she genuinely loves the taste of a pot of black decaf in the morning.

4. She is a fervent supporter of Barack Obama, and even campaigned for him on every day she had off. Of course, before Hillary Clinton was eliminated from the race, she was a closet supporter of the ex-First Lady.

5. Pepper wants to go to India on a spiritual sojourn but doesn't want Tony to think she is abandoning him by going on vacation.

6. Pepper does not like children but apparently loves dogs.

7. On weekends, she sometimes volunteers at a soup kitchen in Skid Row.

8. Pepper has a very low tolerance for alcohol. Very, very low. To the point of nonexistent. And she likes kissing people when she hits that point. Or at least, she likes _almost_ kissing people when she hits that point.

9. She wrote her college essay about her favorite book, To Kill a Mockingbird, and got in to all but her dream school—Brown. A Boston University BA hangs in her apartment study.

10. Pepper loves photography, and someday wants to open a studio to display her work.

Ten Things Tony Realized While Writing The Previous List:

1. Tony once took a 'Which Beatle are You?' Quiz and got George Harrison, even after he found out about Pepper's preference for him. He knows it's true because he retook it four times.

2. Tony has one cell phone, but only four numbers on it: Pepper's work cell, Pepper's personal cell, Pepper's apartment landline and Rhodey's cell (he doesn't have a landline.)

3. Tony is a coffee addict. Or rather, a caffeine addict. He'd shoot the stuff, if he could. It doesn't have much to do with coffee, really.

4. He voted Obama because Pepper made him promise he would. And then take a cell phone picture of the ballot proving that he did.

5. Tony is not a spiritual person. The only god he believes in is the one on the Simpsons that has a beard but no head. He thinks that that is strangely appropriate for a deity.

6. Tony wants kids, which is why he wound up with the pair of brown eyes staring up at him at this very moment with need—Humphrey's gotta pee.

7. Tony's volunteer work is… extensive.

8. Tony has a high tolerance for alcohol. So he just has to drink twice as much as he would with a normal tolerance. And he fucks people when he's drunk.

9. He wrote his college essay about his favorite band, the Rolling Stones, and got in to all but his dream school—Stanford. An MIT Doctorate hangs in his workroom.

10. Tony has a love of redheads, and really, really wants his own private studio filled with them.

"Or," he contemplates with a smile, "one would be just fine."

* * *

A/N: I actually did take several Beatles tests as Mr. Stark. And he did get George Harrison, even after I chose him for Pepper. I was originally going to just stick with John or whoever Tony was going to get, but that made it all the cuter.


End file.
